A Train Car Named
by redrider6612
Summary: This is my Conversing Hart's Challenge entry.  Booth and Brennan are on a long train ride together.  Fair warning, there is some Brennan OOC behavior toward the end of first chapter.  Rated T for some steamy fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my contribution to the Conversing Hart's Challenge. Fair warning, there is some Brennan OOC behavior near the end, but hopefully not so extreme it bothers anyone too much.**

A Train Car Called Desire

The train was rolling along at a brisk speed. Brennan turned the page on the forensics journal she was reading, trying to ignore Booth who was fidgeting beside her. His leg was shaking and he was humming something under his breath and it was really getting on her nerves. Finally, she couldn't take any more.

"Booth, didn't you bring anything to read?" she asked tiredly. It was like sitting next to Parker.

Booth looked at her and rolled his eyes. "Just that Hot Rod magazine, but I already finished reading all the articles." He leaned over to see what she was reading, only to be disappointed at the subject matter. "Jeez, Bones, don't you ever read anything fun?"

Brennan frowned at him. "I happen to find this very stimulating," she informed him.

Booth shook his head. "You know, you really ought to try reading something fun."

"Like what? " she asked, at a loss. She didn't see anything wrong with her choice of reading material.

Booth grinned. "You know, like a romance novel with some guy in the buff pawing some hot babe on the cover.," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, just to see her reaction.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding! What an absolute waste of time. The plots of those novels are so trite and unrealistic. And the characters have sex every fifty pages or so."

"That's the point," he replied patiently. "They're intended to be total escapist entertainment." Suddenly something occurred to him. "Wait, you talk like you've read some—have you?" he asked, surprised. He'd only been teasing.

Brennan blushed a little. "When I was in college, I had a roommate who was addicted to them and she talked me into reading a few. They were okay, but I really didn't enjoy them."

"What about magazines? Like 'People' or 'Us'? Or 'Entertainment Weekly'? You know, something you can read to learn about the real world."

"I really don't care to read about celebrities' lives and I'm not interested in TV or movies. I subscribe to several well written forensics and anthropological periodicals. I find them fascinating." Brennan came up with an idea to give him something to do and give her some peace and quiet. "Why don't you go get some dinner from the dining car? It's nearly seven."

Booth smiled. "Great idea! Something nice and greasy would really hit the spot right now. But you have to come along." She looked like she was about to argue, but Booth cut her off. "C'mon, I don't want to eat alone. And you need to eat too," he argued.

She sighed and closed her book after marking her place. "Okay, but nothing greasy for me. My stomach can't take it."

Booth laughed as they got up and started down the aisle. "I've seen you process some pretty grisly crime scenes without batting an eye, and you're telling me greasy food makes you queasy?"

"What's so strange about that? My stomach just happens to be sensitive to greasy foods. Crime scenes are different. By looking at things clinically, and breathing through my mouth, I'm able to control the urge to vomit," she explained.

Booth glared at her. "Can we not talk about vomiting while we're on our way to eat? I don't wanna lose my appetite."

Brennan chuckled. "You're very susceptible to suggestion. One mention of vomiting and your appetite is gone."

Brennan slammed into his back as he stopped suddenly in the aisle. He turned to scowl at her. "Two. Now, can we change the subject?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "Sure. You're the one who brought it up. Maybe you need to be more careful what subject you choose for conversation. I was just following your lead."

He sighed and continued on down the aisle. "It doesn't seem to matter what subject I choose, you usually manage to turn it into something gross or embarrassing." Mercifully, they arrived at the dining car and sat down to peruse the menu. Booth ordered a cheeseburger and fries, while Brennan chose a cobb salad with some nice crusty French bread. They watched the sunset as they waited for their meals. Dinner passed amicably enough and they managed to avoid any further gross subject matter.

Heading back to their seats, Brennan was dreading a replay of earlier and hoped Booth would find something to occupy his time. She wanted to finish the chapter she'd been reading. She picked up her book and settled in, but it wasn't to be. There was a loud rattle and groan and the train came to a shuddering stop as the lights went out. Emergency lighting came on and they looked around apprehensively.

"This is just great," Booth muttered.

"I wonder what happened?" Brennan asked, mildly alarmed.

"Sit tight, I'll go see what I can find out," Booth said, and then he was gone. Brennan sat looking around at the other passengers. They were murmuring amongst themselves, craning their necks to try to see what was going on. Booth was back very quickly.

"The porter says something's wrong with the engine. They have a mechanic working on it. We should be moving again soon." Brennan sighed and nodded, but he could tell she was starting to get agitated. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said firmly. "I'm fine, I just—" suddenly the emergency lighting went out and they were plunged into total darkness. Several people gasped and there was a startled scream from a lady toward the back of the car. Brennan grabbed Booth's hand. "Booth?" she whispered, and he was shocked at the fear he could hear in her voice.

He pulled her into his arms and started rubbing circles on her back. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered, surprised to find she was trembling. She snuggled her face into his neck.

"I—I'm sorry, I just don't like the dark," she confessed quietly. He pulled her closer. His Bones was afraid of the dark. Who'd have guessed? He tried to think of something to take her mind off the situation. And his too. Having her in his arms was doing things to his body that he didn't want to acknowledge. Then her arms stole up around his neck and she clutched him like her life depended on it and he was lost.

Pulling back a little, his lips unerringly found hers in spite of the utter darkness. She inhaled sharply, startled, and then her mouth opened and she was kissing him hungrily. Booth smothered a groan as the most incredible pleasure took over his senses. His heart was racing as her tongue curled around his and she moaned breathlessly, straining to get closer to him. His hands stroked up her back to tangle in her hair and his mouth moved up her cheek to her ear. She clutched his shoulders as his tongue swirled in her ear and he nibbled at her earlobe.

Suddenly the lights came back on and it was like someone had doused them with ice water. They sprang apart guiltily and looked around at the interested passengers around them. Straightening their clothes, they turned away from each other, trying to act like nothing had happened. Booth wished nothing had. Things were about to get real complicated.

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**So, tell me, was that too over the top? Did you like it? Click the little blue button and let me know what you thought so musie will stop pestering me. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's another short piece of it. There will probably be a part 3, especially if I get some nice reviews.**

A Train Car Named…

Part 2

Brennan read the same page three times, then gave up, closing the book and darting a covert glance at her partner. Booth was staring out the window, even though there wasn't much to see in the pitch darkness beyond the glass. What he was really watching was her reflection beside him. His mind kept going over what had happened. Obviously there were some unresolved issues between them, but he wasn't sure he wanted to address them here, now, where there were people all around them to hear.

Brennan cleared her throat. "Uh, I'm going to bed," she said softly.

Booth's head snapped around. "Oh, yeah, sure Bones. Goodnight," he said with a small smile. Gathering her things, she smiled back at him and made her way down the aisle to the sleeping car. Booth closed his eyes, trying not to think about her getting ready for bed, climbing into her berth and settling down to sleep…'Stop it, Booth,' he scolded himself sternly. 'She's your partner. What happened earlier, that was just—the situation just got the better of us. Things have to go back to the way they were.' He sat there awhile longer, trying to muster the courage to go to the sleeping car and go to bed himself. He guessed she'd been gone at least half an hour, plenty of time for her to be safely tucked into bed. He waited another fifteen minutes just to be sure, then he headed to the sleeping car.

A night light was shining in her berth and the covers were rumpled and he sighed with relief that she was already in bed. Pulling his shirt off, he sat on his bunk and took off his shoes and socks, then shucked his jeans. Normally he slept in the buff, unless Parker was sleeping over, but tonight he thought he should keep his boxers on, just in case. He stood to pull the blankets back, then straightened at a startled gasp behind him. Whirling around, he was dismayed to find Brennan standing in the walkway in her nightgown, a cosmetics bag clutched to her chest, her eyes wide as she stared at his chest. Snatching the blanket from the bunk, he covered himself.

"I—I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I—I thought you were already in bed—"

"I was, then I remembered that I didn't brush my teeth," she explained, deeply embarrassed. The picture of him nearly naked kept flashing in front of her mind's eye. Part of her was wishing he'd drop the blanket so she could see more. 'Stop it,' she scolded herself sternly. 'He's your partner.'

"Oh, well, me too," he said, and reached for his jeans, pulling them on. There was an awkward moment as he sidled past her in the narrow passageway, but they managed to pass each other without touching.

Brennan was safely tucked into her bed when he returned and he sighed with relief. He debated sleeping with his jeans on, then decided it wasn't worth the discomfort. As long as they each stayed in their respective bunks, there wouldn't be a problem. Settling back with a sigh, he stared up at her bunk above him. He hoped she was asleep. She wasn't.

"Booth?" she queried softly.

Booth nearly groaned. Uh-oh, here it comes. "Bones, I really don't think this is a good time to discuss what happened. You were scared and I wanted to comfort you and it just happened. I agree we have some unresolved issues, but I think we should wait to talk about it. Discussing it in the dark when feelings are still pretty intense isn't a good idea."

There was a long silence above and Booth began to wonder if she'd fallen asleep. "I—I was just going to ask you if you snore," came her voice with an undertone of—laughter? Was she laughing at him?

Suddenly the humor in the situation struck him too and he chuckled. "Uh, yeah, I'm afraid I do. Sorry," he said, still grinning.

"So do I," she said with a chuckle.

He laughed again. "Goodnight, Bones."

"Goodnight, Booth."

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**I know, it's short, but that was just such a great place to break it. Now, please, please, please review so musie will cooperate in writing part 3. And a special note to you 'lurkers'—don't you know how much writers live for reviews? I mean, c'mon, we pour our hearts and souls into these stories, slave away over the keys and give you our babies, the least you could do is leave a little ol' review to warm our hearts!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Final chapter, hope you like. Thanks for reviewing—especially flyersfan and jerseybones and snoopgirl. **

A Train Car Named…

Part 3

Brennan was gone when he woke in the morning, her bunk made up neatly. If she had snored, he'd slept right through it. Getting up carefully, he stood and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back. The bunks weren't really made for anyone over five-ten and he had spent a rather uncomfortable night. Pulling out fresh clothes, he dressed quickly, used the bathroom, then went looking for his partner. He found her in the dining car, sipping coffee and reading the paper. She looked up at him with a disgustingly cheerful demeanor.

"Good morning," she said, smiling up at him.

He sat down with a groan. "Morning," he mumbled. A waiter came by with coffee and Booth doctored it with cream and sugar before taking an appreciative sip. Brennan had gone back to her paper, apparently having no trouble putting last night out of her mind. He wished he could say the same for himself.

"Hey, Bones, can I have the sports section?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied, and handed it over. Booth spent the next ten minutes immersed in game recaps, scores and articles about player trades. By then his breakfast had arrived along with his second cup of coffee and he was beginning to feel human again. Brennan had long since finished her breakfast and the paper and sat watching the countryside whipping by as she sipped her coffee.

Booth swallowed a bite, his throat suddenly dry. The morning sun made her eyes a brilliant crystal blue and picked up the red highlights in her hair. She looked beautiful. Her eyes suddenly bounced to meet his and she blushed a little at finding him staring. Blinking twice, hard, he looked back down at his plate.

"Shall we talk about it now?" she asked quietly. His gaze came up to lock with hers.

"Yeah, I guess it's safe to. I mean, it's broad daylight, we're both fully clothed and we're surrounded by people. So, yeah, this is as good a time as any." He pushed his plate away and took another sip of coffee, giving her his complete attention.

"First, I wanted you to know, I don't always react that way to the dark," she said softly, her glance darting around to see if anyone was listening. The tables on either side of them were empty, so as long as they kept their voices down, nobody would overhear. "When I was fifteen, I was sent to this foster home—it was the first one, so I was pretty scared. I didn't know what to expect." Booth was watching her intently, afraid of where this might be going. She looked over his shoulder out the window. "My first night, I was lying in bed, feeling incredibly lonely and missing my brother, when my door opened quietly. He—the husband—came to my bed and put his hand over my mouth and whispered that I wasn't to make a sound." Her voice caught on a sob and she looked at Booth, blinking back tears. A muscle was jumping in his cheek as he clenched his jaw in anger. A wry smile broke across her lips. "Don't worry, nothing happened. I told him I was—uh, having my monthly and that grossed him out and he left. Next day I told the wife I needed a lock on my door. I think she suspected, because she didn't question my reasons. She made him do it. And I told him if he ever touched me again, I'd scream rape so loud, I'd wake the neighbors. He must have believed me, because he never did. After that, I checked out books about self defense and started teaching myself. I didn't ever want to be helpless again."

Booth reached over and covered her hand, squeezing it gently. "You're an amazing woman, Temperance Brennan. Have I ever told you that?"

She smiled in appreciation. "Anyway, every now and then, when I'm in complete darkness, it's like I'm back there, scared out of my wits, with his sweaty hand over my mouth." Pulling her hand away, she straightened in her chair and sipped her coffee. "I didn't tell you that to get your sympathy. I just wanted you to know—I'm not a coward."

"I already knew that," he said softly, smiling fondly. Time to deal with the main issue. "Bones, about last night. We crossed the line. What do you wanna do about it?"

"That depends on why you crossed it," she said with a faint smile.

Booth blew a breath out as he noticed she had said 'you' instead of 'we'. Good question. His gaze locked with hers. "We've been partners for more than two years now and lately I've caught myself thinking of you in a very--un-partnerlike way, more and more." There was a frown between her brows and he looked away. "You've never given me any reason to think you might—"

Brennan touched his hand and his gaze returned to her. "Why would I? After that day at the carousel, when you told me about that line partners should never cross? It was clear you were telling me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to be your partner, we couldn't—"

"I know what I said," Booth said just a little too loudly. A lady two tables over gave him a frowning look. Booth dropped his voice again. "I was just so—shook up by everything Epps had put us through. The thought that some sicko might be able to use my feelings for you against me, that you might be hurt on account of me—"

Brennan watched him, sensing the struggle inside him. "I can take care of myself. You don't have to worry about me," she said, a bit upset that he thought so little of her abilities.

"Really?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "I wish to hell that were true. But it isn't. I worry about you a lot. I mean, what about when Kenton had you? I was terrified that I wasn't going to get there in time. And I almost didn't. So then I started thinking maybe I should go ahead and take a chance. After all, we're already very close. Someone could use you against me now and it would be just as bad. So why not?"

"Are you saying you want to—date?" she whispered. She couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"Hasn't it ever crossed your mind?" he whispered back. She shook her head in reply, but her eyes couldn't quite meet his. "C'mon, Bones. After that kiss, do you really believe I'm gonna buy that?" Her lips thinned and she looked away. "Temperance," he said softly, in a voice so gentle and sweet, she had to look at him. "I'll never leave you," he said solemnly, meeting her gaze steadily.

Tears sprang to her eyes as his words found her most vulnerable spot. He reached for her hand, turning it over and stroking her palm with his thumb. A corner of her mouth quirked. "You better not, because if you ever do, I'll kick your a$$," she threatened with a crack in her voice.

Booth grinned. "That's my Bones. Not that you ever could, mind you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Care to test that?" she asked, only half teasing.

Holding her gaze, he lifted her hand and kissed her palm tenderly. "Bring it on, anytime you're ready." She smiled and suddenly his eyes were serious. "I wanna kiss you," he said huskily, sending a shiver down her back.

Taking her hand back and putting it in her lap, she looked around self consciously. "Here?" she whispered. He cocked a smile at her and her heart started pounding. "No! Booth, wait!" she hissed as he came around the table and pulled her to her feet. Taking her by the hand, he dragged her along behind him as he headed for the sleeping car. Brennan saw people staring, some of them with knowing smiles. Her face was on fire by the time the door shut behind them.

Then she was in his arms, where she'd wanted to be for the longest time, and it felt so good. Her arms went up around his neck as his lips found hers at last and her heart slammed as his tongue swept the roof of her mouth. Moaning softly, she threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down so she could get closer. Their tongues met and stroked over one another as their passion rose. Pushing her up against the wall, he kissed his way down her neck. Her breath hitched as he found the sweet spot where her shoulder met her neck. Her eyes closed in bliss as he gave it his full attention. Her hands moved over his shoulders, down his chest, over his abs and around to his back, feverish, as though she wanted to feel all of him, right now. Booth groaned as her chest came into full contact with his, sending his senses soaring. Finally, at a breaking point, unable to take any more of the torture, he pulled back, breathing heavily.

"Yes or no?" he asked hoarsely.

Brennan blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent thought. What was he asking? His eyes were watching her intensely and suddenly she understood and gave the only answer she could.

"Yes."

THE END

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**So, what did ya think? Fluffy enough? Too fluffy? (if there is such a thing—me likey the fluff!) Please click the blue button and tell me.**


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